


Discord ficlets

by radokami



Category: Love Live! Sunshine!!, ラブライブ! 虹ヶ咲学園スクールアイドル同好会 | Love Live! Nijigasaki Gakuen School Idol Doukoukai (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Jazz Club, Drinking, F/F, Ficlet Collection, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29587062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radokami/pseuds/radokami
Summary: All the fluff (and maybe light angst) I write in little bits and pieces for Discord challenges.Chapter 1: KanaYouMariChapter 2: ShizuKasu
Relationships: Matsuura Kanan/Ohara Mari/Watanabe You, Nakasu Kasumi/Ousaka Shizuku
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

Chopped, sliced acoustic guitar. Upbeat, driving rhythms. Distant vocals, just incisive enough to keep Kanan running. A little faster each time.

It was an understanding among them that even though Kanan, You, and Mari would meet up for their daily runs, they would save the conversation for after. They’d arrive, bleary-eyed and quiet, at the trailhead, don their headphones, and put on their respective running playlists. The music would stop when they did, and only then could they gasp their good mornings, their hugs and kisses, their breakfast plans.

That was the plan today, same as every other day. But when Kanan hit play after finishing her stretches, she realized that her ratty old wired earbuds had finally decided to give out on her. The music came even more distantly than before, blurry with static and no longer capable of speaking to Kanan’s heart, head, or legs.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

“Hm?” You’s voice came through clearly over the muddy mess in Kanan’s ears. “What’s wrong?”

“My earbuds are broken.” Kanan tried not to let it visibly get to her, but the way she hung her head would be obvious to anyone, let alone her girlfriends.

“Oh no,” Mari gasped in English. “Do you have any backups? Either of you?”

“No, these were my only pair,” Kanan replied. “Would’ve replaced them a while ago if I could.”

“I don’t have spares either.” You was going all puppy-dog eyed on Kanan’s behalf. Cute.

“Okay then, how about this.” Mari took off her over-ear headphones. “No music this time. Let’s listen to each other. We can replace those earbuds afterwards.”

“You wanna talk while we’re running?” Kanan raised an eyebrow, skeptical that any version of this could work to spur her on the way she was used to.

“We can if you want, but I mean more like we just listen to the natural soundtrack of running. The birds, the waves, our steps, that kind of thing.”

Kanan considered it for a moment. It was better than skipping the run entirely, which would have been her first impulse if she were alone.

“I like the sound of that,” You chimed in, humming thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I think I do too.” The weight on Kanan became the tiniest bit lighter.

And so they started off without music. The sound of regular footfalls on the path immediately put Kanan in the zone that her playlist usually achieved. A cool, slight breeze rustled the leaves above, waves crashed faintly on the shore. A slow crescendo of even, deep breaths joined the chorus after a few seconds. Kanan’s, You’s, and Mari’s, all intermingling in the humid air, in wordless conversation with one another.

Kanan looked over one shoulder to meet Mari’s gaze, the other to meet You’s. They didn’t need to waste energy on nodding.

This was even better than music.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was for the Wake Up Challenger event, the prompt being to use three different words from our Word of the Day channel. I took a musical approach, easily picked "staccato" and "overture," then filled out the concept with "carouse." I really like the idea of this setting, so I might come back to it someday. But for now, enjoy the sound of Shizuku singing for her gf.

After all these years, it was something of a ritual. The dim, smoky air would hum with conversation, clink and clatter with carousal, so thick that nobody would take notice at first. She'd take the stage quietly, observe the audience for a moment, savor the anonymity like a fine cocktail. Then the lights would click on to beam a warm spotlight down on her, the drummer would tap a few pieces of kit to draw all eyes up, the mic would go live to broadcast her even, meditative breaths.

The world would stand absolutely still, fleetingly hanging on a precipice. 

And the kick drum would thump, and the piano would ring out in a series of staccato chords, and at last, Shizuku would breathe deeply and begin weaving her spell.

Her voice would soar, the sax would dive, and the dialogue would carry on, a little different each night. Wordless looks exchanged between players would decide the shape of each tune, taking cues from the energy of the audience. 

Some nights the air was electric, the patrons' revelry unstoppable, so the brass would blare and squeal to match them. Other nights the drinkers were calm, sedate, perhaps more introspective. So the band would hush their playing, slow their tempo, and Shizuku's voice would come out all but a whisper, melting into the smoke on the air.

No matter the scene, though, one thing was constant, dependable. That one figure sitting up front, drink in hand and several empty glasses beside her on the table. Every so often, the distinctive pin in her hair would catch a light and shine brilliantly. It suited her, Shizuku would always say. Because it was true.

Because really, this was all for her. If the woman with light brown hair and a prodigious alcohol tolerance didn't show, why sing? Why even take the stage?

It was a testament to the two of them that Shizuku never had to answer that question for herself. That Kasumi would be there for her, shining for her, come hell or high water.

That all the euphoria of the stage, the thrill of improvising towards brilliance night after night, was just an overture.


End file.
